


The Proper Care and Feeding of Prophets

by Signe_chan, Trojie



Series: Housemates-verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prophetic Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kevin has a vision that knocks him flat for a day, and the rest of the household rally round to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proper Care and Feeding of Prophets

As the vision receded Kevin became aware of himself again. First his throbbing headache, then his aching limbs, and finally his rolling stomach. He groaned, gripping the chair in front of his head for support. Apparently he'd managed to fall out of bed. It had been months since he’d had a vision but this one … he needed to talk to Garth. 

Reluctantly, he lowered himself to the ground and crawled across the floor to the door. He’d left it open a crack so he managed to get out into the hallway without having to stand, though he had to stop there for a few minutes to breathe. 

At least he was at home. Last time he’d had one of these he’d been at college, stuck alone in his crappy little apartment, and it’d taken him hours to recover enough to even phone someone. At least now Garth was only downstairs. 

Though it’d be even better if Sam was here right now, and not out on a hunt. Sam could just pick him up and carry him, so he wouldn’t need to crawl. Also, Sam’d probably bring him some pain-killers or something. Things would just be better with Sam, but there was no Sam right now, so he’d have to do it himself. 

Cautiously Kevin sat up and scooted to the edge of the steps. His body didn’t immediately rebel so, very carefully, he started lowering himself down the steps. He got about halfway before Garth appeared at his elbow, gripping him and helping him the rest of the way down the stairs and onto the couch. 

***

It was the noise of Kevin falling out of bed that woke Garth up. He was usually a pretty heavy sleeper, and getting even better at ignoring any and all noises that came from the upstairs bedrooms these days, but the thud of someone's body hitting the floor because of overenthusiastic bedroom shenanigans was different to the thud of someone's body hitting the floor because of evil, and unfortunately Garth was pretty good at telling the difference. 

By the time he got to the staircase Kevin was already trying to get down it, just sort of sitting and sliding himself down step-to-step, like it hurt too much to stand up. Garth managed to catch him and pull him to his feet, took most of his weight (and the kid had put on muscle in the year or so since he'd been eating properly and not running from evil, so it wasn't an insignificant weight to bear) and together they dragged-and-staggered their way to the couch. 

Killer, who still slept on the couch despite Dean's best attempts at stopping him, woke up with a start and a soft whuffing noise. Kevin flopped into a sitting position with his legs curled up under him, and Killer immediately started nosing him enquiringly. 'S'okay, boy,' Garth said softly, pushing the dog out of the way as he pulled a blanket off one of the armchairs. He spread the cloth over Kevin as best as he could, and then let Killer scramble up onto the sofa. 'He's just not feeling too good, that's all. Kevin?' he added, shaking the prophet's shoulder gently. Kevin blinked and looked at him. 'Hey, buddy. You okay? You need some aspirin? Drink of water?'

'Had a vision,' Kevin croaked. 'Need a pen and paper.'

Garth shook his head. 'Not 'til you can see straight,' he said. There were _rules_ for Kevin and his visions. - he'd agreed to them himself. They'd pretty much weaned him off the worst of his bad habits, but you had to watch him when he was like this, just in case. 'You can just tell me what it was, Kevin, it's okay. I'll take care of it, and then you can take care of yourself, yeah?'

Kevin snorted weakly. 'Course I can,' he muttered.

'Okay, good. That's good. So tell me what you saw,' Garth coaxed him.

'A portal,' Kevin said. 'Like … tearing open, healing up. Not a gate, it was … it wasn't stable. Stuff's gonna come through, though. Bad stuff. We gotta -' and he started trying to struggle to his feet again, although the blanket and the dog were giving him trouble. 'Gotta stop it,' he said urgently.

Garth gently pushed him back onto the couch. 'You get a time-frame? Or a location?' he asked. 'Cos we'll do our best, Kevin, you know we will, but you know we'll need your help, so you stay there and get some rest, and I'll call the cavalry.'

'Sam,' said Kevin softly. 

'Yeah, Sam,' Garth reassured him. 'I'm just gonna give him a call, okay? And he'll kick my ass if he thinks I've been working you too hard, so for my sake, you wanna stay where you are and play along?'

Killer put a heavy paw over Kevin's lap just as Kevin was about to argue, and that made him laugh and settle back down. 'Okay,' he said, sloppy and sleepy and not quite with it. 'You guys gotta quit coddling me one day though.'

'Sure we will,' Garth said completely untruthfully, getting up and going for the phones. 'Just humour me for now.'

Kevin mumbled something and Killer dropped his head into Kevin's lap, and Garth turned away to dial Sam's number.

'H'lo?' said Sam sleepily at the other end, after a couple of rings. 'Garth? What's up?'

'Kevin's had another vision.' Garth kept his voice low. 'Something about a portal opening, stuff getting through.'

'Goddammit, that's never good,' Sam said, abruptly much more awake. 'Is he okay?'

'You close to being done out there?'

'Wrapped it up in a bow about -' there's a pause, like Sam's checking his watch '- an hour and a half ago. It was just a ghost, Garth. I can be on the road in ten,' he added.

'Are you okay to drive?' Garth asked. Because maybe it was 'just' a ghost, but ghosts kill people, and the ones they don't kill they tend to smack around, and he hadn't been happy about Sam going on his own to start with. The downside of Winchesters having a home base, Garth was finding, was that they got this crazy idea that they could somehow be more efficient by splitting up and covering more ground. Dean had got back this morning from a vampire hunt three towns over that had left him with a clawed-up back and an even-more inflated sense of his own invincibility in the face of 'ordinary' monsters, and Garth had no reason to trust that Sam was in any better shape. And he was farther away.

'I'm fine,' said Sam impatiently. 'Is Kevin okay?'

'I think it shook him up pretty bad,' Garth admitted. 'Been a while since he had one this heavy. But he'll be fine.'

'If I leave now, I can be home by tomorrow night,' Sam said, and there were clanking noises that meant he was packing. Dammit. 

'Better stay where you are, get a few more hours shut-eye, and see us the next morning,' Garth tried, but he knew Sam wouldn't go for it.

'If something's coming for us, I want to be home with the resources to face it,' Sam said, slightly echoey, like he'd put Garth on speaker. 'And if Kevin's having visions, I need to be there.'

'We can look after him fine,' Garth said. 'Hell, he's capable of looking after himself, you know that.'

Sam sighed. 'I know. I know, I'm sorry. But I don't like the idea that he's hurting and I'm not there, y'know?'

'Yeah, brother, I get it.' Garth looked back over at the couch. Kevin's breathing had evened out slow and deep. He was either asleep, or very nearly there. 'You better drive safe though.'

'I'm not _Dean_ ,' Sam said, the eyeroll audible in his tone. 'Jeez.'

'Yeah yeah, I know. Get your ass home, Sam.'

'See you soon,' Sam said, and hung up. 

Garth put the phone back on the hook and cast another eye over Kevin. Then he went and got a dose of pain-killers, a glass of water, and the pen and paper he was pretty sure would be the first thing Kevin went for when he woke up, and put them on the little side table by the couch. 

Killer watched him with one eye open, but Kevin didn't stir. Garth didn't like the idea of leaving him on his own though, and settled into the armchair closest to the couch. Just in case.

****

When Becky got up, the house was too quiet and Kevin was tangled up in blankets on the couch. Garth caught her eye from the armchair he was lurking in, and put a finger to his lips softly.

‘Did he have a vision?’ Becky asked, stepping through into the living room. She might not have stayed with Chuck long but she knew all the signs. A prophet passed out, curled up in a ball, crumpled pages of notes around him and a ratty blanket on top of him. Could only be one thing. Or, well, Kevin could have taken up fandom but she wasn’t holding out for that. 

‘Yeah,’ Garth said quietly from where he was sitting. ‘Seems like a pretty bad one, too.’

‘Oh,’ she said, creeping further into the room. ‘I didn’t know he got them so bad. I thought he was a translating things kind of prophet, not a crippling visions kind.’ 

‘I wish,’ Kevin groaned and Becky jumped a little, though Garth didn’t seem surprised. ‘How did you know I’d had a vision?’ 

‘I used to date the last prophet,’ she said, coming into the room fully and crouching by Kevin. ‘It didn’t work out. I loved his prose more than I loved him and also he was kind of desperate, I could do better.’ 

‘Don’t suppose you picked up any tips from him on avoiding post-vision headaches?’ Kevin asked. She laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. 

‘I think Sam’d kill me if I let you self-medicate the way Chuck did. He was kind of a drunk. I can make you breakfast, though?’ 

‘Coffee?’ he mumbled hopefully and Becky laughed again. 

‘I don’t think that’ll do you any good but I have some of that herbal tea that’s meant to help with headaches left? And I can make pancakes?’ 

‘I love your pancakes,’ Kevin agreed and Becky smiled. She liked having something to do. 

‘You wanna take a break, Garth?’ she asked, looking over at him. ‘I’ll make Kevin breakfast.’ 

‘Don’t I get breakfast?’ Garth whined, slumping in his chair. Becky found herself laughing, though she cut if off quickly when Kevin winced at the sound. She knew that, too. She’d spent far too long tiptoeing around Chuck’s house post-visions. 

‘Sure,’ she whispered. ‘Since you asked so nicely.’ Garth smiled and she got herself up off the floor again and headed to the kitchen. She’d thought her days of taking care of a prophet were over but, if it was Kevin, she didn’t really mind. 

***

Charlie figured something was up when she was homing in on the coffee she could smell brewing in the kitchen and stumbled over Garth and Becky having a whispered conversation in the hallway. 

'Morning sweetie,' Becky said in very subdued tones. She was holding a mug of coffee, which she pushed into Charlie's hands. 

'Who died?' Charlie asked, burying her face in the life-giving beverage. 

'I'm not dead,' croaked someone from the living room. Charlie looked up. 

'Is that Kevin?' she asked. 

'Shhhh,' Becky said. 'He's had a vision.'

'Still not dead,' Kevin said. 'Getting bored, though.' He didn't sound healthy. Charlie mentally reorganised her priorities for the day, and pushed through into the living room, cradling the coffee.

'Alright, kiddo, if you're not dead then you can help me get past this bit in Mass Effect.' She tossed him an X-box controller and settled in next to him. 'I hate fighting as a Krogan,' she explained, off his quizzical and slightly bloodshot-eyed look. 'You do it for me.'

'Pretty sure you're not supposed to play Mass Effect by committee,' Kevin said, but he turned the console on anyway. 

While he ran around wreaking havoc on Tuchanka, Charlie realised that the couch was covered in bits of paper, notes in Kevin's careful handwriting, and she picked a few of them up and started reading. Apparently, this week's flavour of doom was 'random portal spits out evil'. Goody.

'Phew,' she said after a few pretty dire predictions about the fallout of this particular event. 'Heavy stuff, little dude.'

'I know,' said Kevin, but he sounded distracted by the game, which was kind of the point, so Charlie didn't push any further. She collected up the notes and shuffled them into order for typing up later, already wondering about sticking some of the details into her search program to see if they could get a head start on this whole 'portal opening' thing. She didn't recognise all the things Kevin had described seeing, but that didn't mean they weren't in the depths of the database. 

There was a bit of a commotion out in the kitchen and then Dean came through into the living room. He was limping. 'Hey, Kevin,' he said, as casually as he could with a split lip. 'How're you feeling, buddy?'

Kevin paused his game and looked up at Dean. 'Probably better than you,' he said. His voice was still really hoarse, Charlie noted. She wondered if Becky still had that herbal tea in the pantry. 'Sit down, man, before you fall down.'

Dean scoffed. 'Too much to do,' he said. 'You rest up - I gotta go get my baby ready for if we need to go avert another apocalypse.'

He sounded way too happy about that. Kevin and Charlie watched him as he left the room, walking like he was eighty years old. 'I feel like he genuinely thinks we don't notice when he's hurt,' Charlie said, resting her chin in her hand, leaning over the arm of the couch. 'Winchesters, man.'

'D'you get the feeling he's avoiding me?' Kevin asked. 

'What? No,' Charlie said, shaking her head. 'He probably just got thrown on his ass and is looking for excuses not to sit down, that's all. Now, c'mon - you've got a warrior clan to join.'

Kevin rolled his eyes at her, but he was smiling as he left the pause menu. Mission accomplished.

***

Sam was pretty sure he'd worn a hole in the floor of the piece-of-shit car he'd ended up chasing that ghost in, the way he'd driven it home. 

And he was tempted to leave his duffle in the back seat and just get it later, but thirty seconds wouldn't make that much difference and he was trying, really really freaking trying, to not be an overprotective control-freak about this. Kevin had had visions before. He'd had visions when Sam wasn't around before. Prophets through the ages had had visions by themselves totally unsupervised by Sam Winchester and they'd all muddled through. 

So Sam grabbed his bag and made sure to walk calmly into the house rather than charging in like he wanted to. 

He did, however, drop the duffle in the doorway and head straight to the couch. It was normal, he normally left his stuff by the door. Sometimes. Well, he’d done it once before at least. 

Kevin was curled up in a nest of blankets and he looked like he hadn’t moved much in a while. He also looked kind of pale but otherwise good. Charlie was curled on the other end of the couch, an X-box controller in her lap. When she saw Sam she stood up, dropping it. 

'Sam,' she said, grinning. 'Thank god you’re back, Kevin’s a terrible back-seat gamer.' 

Kevin rolled his eyes, shoving at the heaps on blankets piled on top of him. Sam stepped around to help him but by the time he got there Kevin was already on his feet and nobody could really blame Sam for reaching for him, especially not when Kevin was already reaching back. 

'Glad you’re back,' Kevin said, burying his face in Sam’s chest and Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He felt his whole body relax, curling down around Kevin as they stood together. He knew he was an idiot but all through the drive he’d not been able to stop himself thinking of worse case scenarios. Now here he was, with Kevin safe in his arms, and he finally felt calm. And exhausted.

'Glad I’m back too. Was it bad?' 

'Yeah,' Kevin grumbled. 'Worst it’s been in a while. I don’t … I don’t really want to talk about it now. Garth and Charlie’ve seen the notes. Can we maybe just cuddle for now?' 

'Yeah,' Sam said, steering Kevin back towards the pile of blankets. 'Whatever you want.' 

***

Castiel landed in the living room to find Kevin curled in a nest of blankets looking miserable. Kevin looked up at the sound of his wings and offered a weak smile. Castiel was no expert on human well-being, but Kevin didn't look to him like someone who should be being left alone in his state. Admittedly, Castiel could hear clanking from the kitchen and the muffled sound of Sam talking in the hall, but neither of those things counted as adequate supervision so he ignored them for now, moving over to Kevin’s side. 

'Did you have a vision?'

'Yeah,' Kevin said with a grimace. 'It was a while ago now, I’m not feeling too bad.' 

Castiel nodded but he still lifted his fingers to Kevin’s forehead and took away all the pain he could. Prophetic visions were necessarily violent to the body, they tended to leave damage. He repaired what he was able to, and withdrew. 

'Thanks,' Kevin said, softly. 'You didn’t need to do that.' 

'I don’t want to see you suffer,' Castiel said, stepping back. 'I’m afraid that’s all I can do, though.' 

Kevin smiled at him, and he did look a little better. 'Oh, don’t worry. This is much better. It’s kind of the contents that bother me more than the physical stuff, though. Charlie and Garth have my notes, maybe you can help them later?' 

'I will do that,' Castiel said. Charlie and Garth were both competent with research and it was likely that he wouldn’t be needed but, on the other hand, it would be a waste not to use the knowledge he had too. Prophetic vision could, after all, be very vague. It didn’t hurt for him to take a look over what they had. 

'Kevin, I’m sorry …' Sam said, stepping back into the room. He stopped when he saw Castiel standing there, apparently taking a second to mentally regroup before he move on. 'That was Mrs. Jones. She’s having a problem with her plumbing and needs me round there.' 

'I really hope that isn’t a euphemism,' Kevin said with a smirk. Sam gave him a dark look but Kevin just laughed. Castiel let the conversation flow around him, glancing between the two of them. Kevin looked happier just to see Sam in the room. It was a wonderful sight. 

'You know I don’t want to go.' 

'I’ll be fine,' Kevin said with an exaggerated eye roll. 'Cas took my pain away, anyway.' 

'Most of it,' Castiel corrected. 'There is still some residual damage that I can't heal as it's divine in origin, and I can't help you process what you've seen.' 

'I should stay,' Sam said, taking a step towards the couch but Kevin held up his hand to stop him. Castiel wasn’t sure why Kevin was turning down this chance to be with Sam, though - Castiel took every chance to be with Dean that he could. 

'You need to go,' Kevin said, calmly. 'I’m feeling a lot better. Cas’s going to take a look at the vision for me so that’ll help. And there are people here, Sam. I’m not going to be alone. I’d prefer it were you here but you have a life. You can’t just hang around every time I have a vision.' 

'I could try,' Sam said, but he was already heading back to the door. 'Promise to call me if anything happens?' 

'I will,' Kevin said with a roll of his eyes. Sam paused in the door and then crossed the room, impulsively pulling Kevin into his arms before he left, heading outside. Castiel watched hungrily. He wished Dean was here right now to hold him, though he was aware that Dean wouldn’t have done so in front of anyone else. But they got less time together than even Sam and Kevin did, what with Dean's hunts and Castiel's work for Heaven. Castiel couldn't help craving contact with Dean when he did have the opportunity to experience it, and Sam and Kevin were so much more demonstrative in public. He was almost jealous.

'You know,' Kevin said, his tone knowing. 'Dean’s hanging about in the kitchen avoiding me. I bet he’d be glad to see you.' 

'I know I’ll be glad to see him,' Castiel said with a smile. He liked that Kevin could read him, understand him in this way. He nodded to Kevin and then turned, heading through into the kitchen. 

Dean was, indeed, there. He was banging around the kitchen, apparently looking for something. A pan of soup sat on the stove, boiling away and Castiel stepped over and lowered the heat for Dean before it burnt. 

'Hey,' Dean said, stopping his search to look over at Castiel. 'I’d have got that.' 

'I know,' Castiel said. 'I just thought I’d help you.' 

'Thanks, I guess,' Dean grumbled, coming around the table. He looked around nervously before leaning in to press a chaste kiss on Castiel’s lips. He withdrew quickly and Castiel found himself reaching after Dean. Dean dodged his hand, going to the stove to try to save his soup. 

'Why are you hiding in here?' Castiel asked, following Dean to the counter. 'Kevin isn’t well, I’d have thought you’d be with him.' 

'He’s fine,' Dean said with a hand-wave. 'He’s got Sam.' 

'Sam has just left on an emergency DIY job,' Castiel said. Dean frowned at that, looking around like he expected to find confirmation or denial on the kitchen counters. 'Kevin still seems troubled by his vision. I’m sure he would appreciate your company.' 

'I’m not so sure,' Dean said, abandoning the pan in the sink. 'It’s been … it’s kind of weird now he’s dating Sam.' 

'Why?' Castiel asked, frowning. 'He doesn’t seem any different with you.' 

'I guess he isn’t,' Dean admitted. 'I just … he was like a weird little brother but now he’s dating my actual little brother, feels kind of strange.' 

'Kevin being involved with your brother should make him feel more like a brother to you, not less,' Castiel said, confused. Dean just sighed, the sigh he used when he thought Castiel was deliberately not getting something to make a point. Something Castiel did very rarely. 

'It’s just … it’s awkward.' 

'Kevin is upset and alone. He would no doubt appreciate any company, even if it is awkward. You should go to him. I would, but I promised to look over his prophecy.' Castiel found a pile of papers in Kevin's handwriting, although it was shakier than normal, on the kitchen table, and waved them at Dean. 'I can watch your soup at the same time.'

Dean sighed, looked down at his soup, and then he seemed to make a decision. He spine straightened, shoulders back, and he turned to pull Castiel into a quick hug. 

'Alright,' he said, 'You do do what you’ve got to do. I’ll go sit with him.' 

'Thank you, Dean.' 

***

Kevin was half asleep, sort of squinting at a novel, out on the couch when Dean sidled into the living room. After a day's worth of TLC from the entire population of the house Kevin looked better, but still not exactly well. Visions always did a number on him. They'd done a number on Chuck as well, but … maybe it was because he'd had more of them, y'know, given the imminent Apocalypse at the time and all, but he'd always looked kind of unwell and Dean had kind of put it down to the alcoholism and the lack of showers and sleep, and moved on.

Seeing Kevin like this, chewed up and spit out by his Prophet powers when normally he was pretty put-together, made Dean think maybe he should have gone a bit easier on Chuck. 

It was too late for that now though, anyway, Dean told himself. Look after the prophet in front of you. He picked up the remote from the coffee table and plopped himself down on the couch next to Kevin, who stirred a little but didn't really wake up. The book slid off his knee and dropped on the floor when Kevin stretched - Kevin's head ended up lolling on the back of the couch, very close to Dean's shoulder. 

Dean didn't exactly flinch, he just pointed the remote and turned the TV on, and if doing that meant he moved a little bit back out of touching range, well. 

Thank God for daytime TV and about a bajillion channels - it didn't take Dean long to find some Doctor Sexy. He put the volume down low, because it was quiet in the house and he didn't want to wake Kevin up - if the little dude needed a nap, that was fine. Dean would just keep him company, like he promised. 

He could almost hear Cas's sigh, like he wasn't fulfilling the spirit of his promise or something ridiculous. It's just … okay, it's not like he ever had practice hanging out with Sam's girlfriends, because before Stanford Sam never let them within spitting distance of Dean, and after Stanford, and Jess, there weren't exactly a lot of girlfriends. 

And then there was Kevin, suddenly, who'd been Dean's friend before he was Sam's … whatever. Boyfriend. And now Dean just didn't have a roadmap, that was all. And the soundproofing was pretty good but it could never be perfect, and sometimes he heard _noises_ and all in all it pretty much just added up to awkward. He couldn't flirt with Kevin, he couldn't pretend Kevin and Sam weren't doing the nasty, and he just … couldn't figure out what the third option was. It's not like he was treating Kevin like a leper, or anything … just that he couldn't quite seem to find that comfortable way they'd used to hang out together when he kept remembering 'oh yeah, this dude is banging my brother'. 

But Cas was right. He couldn't let the fact that he was feeling weird make _everything_ weird. 

On the TV, Doctor Piccolo accused this week's visiting surgeon of malpractice. She was kind of loud about it. Kevin shifted in his sleep, and he was properly asleep now, breathing slow and even, and before Dean registered it happening, Kevin's face was sort of smushed up against his arm. 

'Aw, hey,' said Dean, shifting so he could loop his arm around Kevin's shoulder, pull him in a little bit so that he wasn't slumped. Dean was a master at sleeping sitting up, after all, thanks to years of living out of a car, the least he could do was help out a bit, make sure Kevin didn't get a crick in his back.

When Sam came back from the emergency call-out, the sunlight outside was getting pink and dusty, as the afternoon was wearing on, and Kevin was still sacked out, curled into Dean's side. Sam came in the living room and quirked an eyebrow. Dean laid a finger over his lips. Sam smiled softly and went to wash up, without saying a word. 

Cas came to the door with a dishtowel in his hands. 'Dinner should be ready soon,' he said. 

'You cooked?' Dean asked. Kevin started to stir, which was probably a good thing. They should probably get some food in the kid. 

'It's only meatloaf,' Cas shrugged. 'And the soup, of course.' Shit. Dean had forgotten about the soup.

'I like meatloaf,' Kevin murmured. Sam reappeared and held out a hand for him, but he pushed himself up to sit on his own. Then he looked back and blinked. 'Dean?'

'Hey Kev,' said Dean. 'How you feeling?'

'Like something died in my mouth,' Kevin said frankly, in a rough voice. 'Was I … sleeping on you?'

'Little bit,' said Dean, trying out this whole 'not being awkward' thing.

'Sorry,' Kevin said sheepishly. 'I musta been pretty out of it.'

'It's okay,' Dean said, and it was. The last thing he wanted was for Kevin to feel weird as well as sick. 'Trust me. I've been slept on by Gigantor over there. At least you didn't crush me to death in your sleep.'

Kevin snorted softly. 'Yeah. He's kinda heavy, huh?' 

'Understatement,' Dean agreed. 

Sam went pink, which as far as Dean was concerned was a win, and Kevin grinned, and over on the other side of the room Cas said, 'If we're all done being amused by Sam's mass, can I serve dinner?'

Kevin got to his feet and waved Sam off before he could grab his arm or something. Dean could see his brother going for it. 'I can walk, I can walk,' Kevin said, protesting. There was still a hell of a wobble in his step, but Sam gave in as gracefully as he was able to.

'I'll go call the others then,' Sam said. He gave Dean a Look before he left the room though, the one that meant 'take care of this'. Okay, so maybe Sam wasn't very good at giving in gracefully.

Kevin made it to the kitchen under his own steam. Dean followed, close enough to lunge if he fell but far enough away that it didn't look like Dean was escorting him across the room like a little old lady. As he passed Cas in the doorway, Dean smiled. 

Cas leant forward a little and kissed him on the cheek. Right in the middle of the house where anyone could have seen. 

'See?' he said quietly. 'These things are only 'weird' if you make them weird.'

***

Kevin came awake slowly, the morning after. In fact, it took him a couple moments to realise he was awake and not dreaming, he was so warm and comfortable, burrowed into a pile of blankets and wedged up against something that was putting out the same amount of heat as a furnace. Oh right, he reminded himself. That would be Sam. They'd never quite had enough days waking up together in a row for him to have entirely memorised the feeling of having Sam in his bed. He opened his eyes a crack, guarded against the influx of light because he'd got headaches that way in the past, but there wasn't any pain, just the sight of Sam looking back at him.

'Morning,' Sam rumbled. 'How're you feeling?' he asked, shifting onto his side and running a hand through Kevin's hair fondly.

'Good,' Kevin said, stretching out. 'Breakfast? After yesterday, I figure it's probably my duty to cook for everyone,' he added, half-joking. 

Sam frowned a little at him. 'You should take it easy,' he started, and Kevin had to lean forward and shut him up with a kiss before he could get all the way into Caretaker Mode.

Because … It wasn't that he didn't want to just burrow back into the bedclothes and make some time with Sam. It really was tempting. But he'd spent all yesterday lolling around. He wanted to get moving. He also kind of wanted to try and figure out what his visions had actually meant, and that was kind of like an itch in the back of his mind. He always figured it was like Phase Two of prophet-vision. Phase One, you get whammied. Phase Two, you have to figure out what it means. 

'How are pancakes not taking it easy?' Kevin wheedled, widening his eyes so he looked as innocent as he knew how to. 'C'mon, Sam. We get up now, you can go for a run and still get back in time to eat breakfast before Dean even smells bacon.'

'You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl, Kevin Tran,' Sam said sarcastically, but he hauled himself out of bed anyway. 

Kevin gave himself a moment to appreciate the view and then sat up as well. 'Thank you,' he said. 

Sam tried to turn around mid-putting-on-a-shirt. 'For what?' he asked, muffled, yanking the thing down impatiently.

'I dunno, for not freaking out? Taking care of me without making a thing about it, y'know?' Kevin shrugged. 'It's still kind of new. Mom used to go Defcon One on me, and when she wasn't around I was pretty much just on my own, so having you guys … having _you_ -'

'Hey,' Sam said, leaning back across the bed to kiss Kevin softly. 'It's no big deal. We all take care of each other, right? It's not like you never cleaned up any of our messes.'

'I guess not,' Kevin said, thinking back over the years.

'But if you'd rather I phoned your mom and got her out here to take care of you properly ...' Sam said, yanking his running shoes on. 'I mean, it would be a weight off my mind -'

Kevin threw a pillow at him. 'God, no. She's only allowed to visit when I'm healthy enough to fight back.'

Sam laughed, ducking out of the room before Kevin could find any more projectiles and Kevin listened to his footsteps fading, down the stairs, and finally the slam of the front door. He relaxed, giving himself a few more seconds to lie in Sam’s residual warmth before he got up and made food for his family. After all they’d done for him yesterday he figured he owed them, and expressing feelings through food was basically a house rule.


End file.
